


Marry Me A Little

by katkrap



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, wedding fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:32:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katkrap/pseuds/katkrap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the afternoon of the rehearsal brunch and Tony's getting cold feet.  (HEAVILY inspired and borrowed from Sondheim's "Company.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marry Me A Little

Nine months, four fired interns, seven catering companies, three chefs, thirty-seven paperweights and forty-seven candle holders later, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark were finally twenty-four hours away from officially tying the knot.

Steve hadn’t seen Tony since he’d gotten back from the business trip in Tokyo three days ago.  He’d been anxious to see him, but between Tony and Stark Industries and Director Fury and the Avengers, Steve just hadn’t had the time.

They’d talked, of course.  Well, Tony’s version of talk.  Mostly it was emails and text messages.  Though it had been nothing but radio-silence on Tony’s end for the last twelve hours.

Not that Steve was counting.

He took a cab to the penthouse Tony had been renting for his business meetings outside of Manhattan.  They’d agreed to a stupid bet with Clint that they couldn’t stand to live separated from one another for six weeks before the wedding.  And like a fool, Tony had—without consulting Steve—accepted the bet.

“Come on in, Steve,” Pepper said, opening the door to let him in.  By the time Steve had stepped inside, Pepper was back on her call. “No.  _No_ , it was the _east_ ballroom,” she said to the man on the other line. “No, the _band_ is supposed to set up in the _west_ ballroom.”  She began gnawing on the stylus for her PDA, before her expression turned to irritation.  “No, I was very clear, dining in the east, dancing in the west!  … well, I don’t care what you tell them, just tell them to move the platform to the other ballroom!”  She looked at Steve and mouthed, “ _sorry_.”

He shook his head and smiled at her in a gesture that told her not to worry.  He pointed around the apartment and mouthed, “ _Tony?”_

Pepper sighed and pointed down the hall with a half-crazed look in her eye.

He gave her a questioning look, raised one eyebrow.

She just shrugged her shoulders, opened her mouth to respond when her attention returned to the phone call.  “Wh—no!  White wine!   We ordered white wine, not… is your supervisor available, because this just isn’t… no.  Thank you, yes, I’ll hold.”  She mouthed another _“sorry”_ in Steve’s direction, but he was already waving her off and gesturing in the direction she indicated.  She nodded, and went back to her call.

Steve walked to the door of the master bedroom and knocked on the door.  “Tony?”

There was the sound of something breaking and someone swearing under their breath.

Steve frowned and opened the door.

Tony was standing in front of the mirror of a large vanity, two ties in hand.  He was wild-eyed and frantic-looking, a vase lying broken on the floor on the table next to the vanity.  Steve couldn’t help but smile.  “Uh, hey.”

“I asked for champagne,” Tony said, holding up both ties, his voice higher than usual, and tone more manic.  “Champagne.”  He spun around, holding up the two ties to Steve.  “Do these look like champagne?  _No_.  They look like _gold_ and _cream_.  **_Gold.  And.  Cream_.** ”  He shook his head, not looking as he tossed both ties up in the air.  “ _Ruined_.  It’s ruined.  The whole thing.  We should call it off.  Call the whole thing off.”

Steve blinked, trying to keep from smiling.  “Beeeecause they gave you _ties_ and not _champagne_?”

Tony gave him a deadly look.  “Champagne is a **_color_** , Steve,” he snapped.  He held up a finger.  “You know what, this is **_your_** fault.”

Steve smirked.  “My fault?”

“Yes!” Tony said.  “Your fault.  If my ring was platinum instead of white gold—”

“You insisted on the white-gold,” Steve said.  “Said platinum wouldn’t match the Mach However-Many.”

Tony’s eyes went wide and glassy.  “Ten, Steve.  _Mach Ten_.  How long have we been together now?  How do you not _know_ this?  Or maybe you _just don’t care!”_   He threw up his arms, walked directly to the bed and flopped face-down into the mattress.

Steve blinked.  “Tony?  Is everything alr—?”

“Alright,” Pepper said, walking into the room with her PDA in hand.  “I just got off the phone, the ballroom fiasco is fixed, the wine is white, and the rehearsal dinner is starting in…”  She checked her watch, but before she could so much as rattle off that they needed to be leaving fifteen minutes ago, Tony was sitting up on the bed, eyes huge and voice high-pitched.

“Do you have to _stand there?!”_ he gasped.  “Both of you?!  Just standing there all… standy?!  I can’t think with you two following me everywhere!  From the kitchen to the bathroom to the study, all morning, it’s like I’m leading a _parade_.  I _hate_ parades, Pepper.  I **_hate_** _them_.”

Pepper sighed.  “Noted, Mr. Stark.”

And in that same instant, Tony was up again, picking up both ties from where they’d landed and walking to the vanity.  He made a little grumbling noise in his throat and tossed one of the ties blindly over his shoulder where it landed on Steve’s head.  Steve chuckled, unable to stop himself from smiling ear-to-ear as he pulled the tie off his head and watched Tony struggle to dress himself.

“This is going to be a disaster,” Tony was muttering under his breath.  “This whole thing, just wrong.  Colors are wrong, they’ll all see my tie and say, that’s not champagne, that’s pale-gold, and I’ll just tell them, well, my tailor is color-blind.  ‘Why do you have a color-blind tailor, Tony?’ ‘Gee, Hank, I don’t know why.  I’m just a sadistic— _GOD **DAMN** IT, STEVE!”_ Tony suddenly shouted at Steve’s image in the vanity mirror, two hands grabbing the tabletop.  “ _WHY ARE YOU **SMILING?!** WHY ARE YOU SO HAPPY **ALL THE TIME?!”**_

Steve folded the tie in his hands, struggled to rein in his smile and failed.  “ _You_ ,” he answered.

Tony was already off talking to himself as he put on his cufflinks.  “This is the most neurotic _insssaaaane_ thi… It’s _crazy_ having this **_enormous_** **_wedding_** after years of living together—Steve, it’s **_embarrassing_** , people will think I’m **_pregnant_**.”

Pepper frowned and Steve blinked.  “What?”

“What am I doing?” Tony asked as he turned from the vanity, looked desperately at Steve.  “No, really, Steve, _what_ am I _doing?_   I’m _fourty-five—”_

“And _perfect_ ,” Steve added.

Tony let out a bitter laugh.  “Oh!” he chuckled, waving his hands about.  “Oh.  Of course.  An oldie-but-a-goodie, _huh_?  This is just—”

“Tony,” Pepper murmured, checking her watch, “not to interrupt your unscheduled meltdown, but if we leave for the rehearsal brunch now, we’ll only be twenty minutes _late_.”

Tony continued as though she hadn’t spoke.  “I’m just so glad we’re not having a _Catholic wedding_ like my parents,” Tony said, as he pushed past them both and into the hall.  He made his way through the front room toward the kitchen.  “That way next year, when we get the **_divorce_** , I won’t be a **_sinner_**.”

Steve chuckled.  “Tony, aren’t you an avowed atheist—?”

“ _SO YOU’D RATHER MARRY A **CHRISTIAN?!** ”_ Tony suddenly shrieked rounding on both of them.  _“IS **THAT** IT? A **CHRISTIAN** , LIKE **YOU?!** ”_

Steve’s happy expression, for the first time since he walked into the penthouse, faltered.  “Don’t be _ridiculous_ ,” he murmured.  Tony turned around and stormed off toward the kitchen, Steve calling after him, “what’s this about me being Christian?  Why bring it up?  Why today?”  When Tony didn’t respond, he added, “at least _half_ of our friends are Christians.  Now, hurry.  We need to go.”

There was the sound of the fridge door slamming shut and Tony poked his head around the corner.  “Did I ever say I **_liked_** our friends ** _, I do not_** _.”_   There was the sound of glasses being fumbled with, liquid sloshing into a glass, and then silence.

Steve looked at Pepper.  “I told him no drinking before the rehearsal—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Pepper said.  “I’ve triple-checked this place, the only thing here to drink is that orange juice you bought one tuesday, and—”

“What is this?”  Tony had wandered back into the front room, a glass of orange juice and a napkin in hand.  “The _hell_ is **_this?_** ”

Steve frowned.  “What is what?”

Without ever breaking eye-contact with Steve, Tony walked directly to Pepper and held out the napkin he was holding.  “This was _taped_ to the orange juice.”

Pepper frowned, reading it aloud.  “‘ _To whoever reads this: I love you’_?”

Tony gestured frantically at Steve.  “ _YOU SEE?!”_ he shouted.  “He does this!  **_ALL_** _THE TIME_.  Leaves notes _everywhere_!  On my fridge, on my tablets, on my computer monitors, IT’S **_HATEFUL_** , STEVE, NO ONE CAN STAND THAT MUCH **SWEETNESS** , _NO HUMAN BEING CAN **TAKE** SO MUCH **AFFECTION**!!”_   He grabbed the napkin out of Pepper’s hands, crumpled it up and tossed it across the room.  Or tried.  It made it a good foot before falling in a useless wad on the floor.  Tony walked across the room and sat on the arm of the sofa nearest the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to Steve and Pepper.

Pepper looked at Steve, nodded at her watch.  Steve, smile gone, asked in a near whisper, “Tony, don’t you think we should go?”

Tony’s shoulders were tight, eyes fixed on the window.  He didn’t so much as look in the direction of Steve’s voice.  The sound that came out of him was small.  Almost childish.  A whisper.  “I can’t.”

Steve smiled, tired and somewhat weary.  The wedding had been an all-consuming process over the course of many months.  It was getting to both of them.  But in a day, it would all be finished. 

So long as they actually got to the wedding part.

Steve smirked, taking a deep breath and trying not to laugh.  “Tony, if _anyone_ should be married, it’s _you_ ,” Steve said, walking across the room.  He reached out to touch Tony’s shoulder, but Tony was already on his feet, walking to the other side of the room and leaning up against the window, free hand pressed to his face, back still to Steve.

“Oh **_God_** ,” Tony muttered to himself.

Pepper’s throat worked as Steve gave her a tired look.  She gestured.  “I’m… going to call them, let them know we’ll be… late.  People will be getting there, Rhodey will tell them we’re running behind, we’ll just…”  She gestured again and excused herself to the front room.

Steve’s throat worked as he watched Tony down the tall glass of orange juice in one go.  He cleared his throat, not daring to move from where he was lest Tony go screaming from the penthouse all together.  “Do you see what you’re doing to yourself, Tony?”

Tony didn’t move, just held the glass in a white-knuckled grip and stared out the window.

Steve sighed.  “Did you know if _other people_ did to you what _you_ do to you, they could be put in **_jail?_** _”_

Tony only glanced at the reflection of Steve in the window.

Steve smiled, taking a few steps toward Tony and holding out his hand.  “Come on.  Let’s get going—"

He was about halfway through when he was cut off by a soft clap of thunder in the distance.  Tony’s eyes were back up at the sky, wide and frantic as before as he pressed a hand to the window.   “Look. Oh _God_ , Steve, just _**look**_ … it’s starting to _rain_.”

Steve pressed a hand to his face and sunk down to the arm of the sofa Tony had only just been sitting on.

Pepper re-entered the room.  “It’s starting to rain,” she murmured to Steve.  “And Rhodey isn’t answering.  Neither is Clint or—”

He held up a finger to his lips, nodding at Tony.

She fell silent, began to mouth, “ _what should we do?”_

Steve cleared his throat, standing again.  “Come on, Tony.  We’re _late_.”

“I can’t do it,” Tony murmured, voice so quiet he might as well have been talking to himself.  “I c… I don’t know how _I ever let it get this far and **look**_ , just **_look_** , it’s _really_ coming down now, it’s a flood, we’ll never make it, _just look at it_ , it’s bad luck for it to rain on a wedding day, isn’t it, it sets a precedent—”

“This is the _rehearsal_ , Tony,” Steve repeated, his voice level and calm.  “The wedding isn’t until tomorrow.”

Tony just stared at the window in silence.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Tony, after all these years—these… wonderful, amazing, frustrating years—don’t you see?  We fit.  We do.”

Tony’s eyes flicked up to Steve’s reflection in the window.  He shook his head.  “The higher you get the harder you hurt when fall.”

Steve gave a warm easy smile and took a step toward Tony.  “I’ve never dropped you yet.”  He held out a hand.  “Come on, Tony.  All our friends are there.  Waiting for us.”

For the first time in a long while, Tony turned to look at Steve.  Directly at Steve.  His eyes were huge and glassy and wild.  “Steve,” he murmured, shaking his head.  “That’s no reason.”  His throat worked and he set the empty glass down on a table, and began removing his tie.  “I can’t.  I just can’t.  I’m so afraid—”

“Of _what?”_ Steve asked.

Tony held his gaze as long as he could.  He shuffled to the armchair and sat down, shaking his head and staring at the floor.  “I don’t know.”  He shrugged.  “I don’t know, I just think, y’know… y-you’re not really _for me_ , Steve.”  He shrugged again, gave a little shuddering chuckle.   “I-I just don’t… think _anyone’s_ really for me, did you know I’ve never seen one good marriage, **_never_** , not in my _entire_ life.”

Steve’s throat worked.  “Tony, you… you just see what you look for… y’know?”

Tony wouldn’t look at him.

Steve continued.  “I’ve… seen a lot of good marriages.  _A lot_.”

Still nothing.

Steve ran a hand over his face, choosing his next words carefully.  “Tony… married people are no more _marriage_ than musicians are _music_.  Just because _some_ of the people are wrong, doesn’t make **_it_** any less **_right_**.”

Tony rolled his eyes and gave Steve a harsh glare.  “Yes, well I’ll stitch that on a pillow, _Steve_ ,” he snapped in sing-song.  In the same moment, he pressed both hands to his face and shook his head.  “Steve, I j… I can’t, a-and I’m not being _emotional_ , I’m **_sane_** , I’m as rational as can be and Steve, I’m sorry!” he snapped, voice cracking as he shouted, “I don’t love you **_enough!_** _”_

Steve stared at Tony as the air went out of the room.  He tried to breathe.  He really did.  His collar suddenly felt too tight, and the air-conditioned pent-house was all-at-once too hot and…

Steve pressed a hand to his face, pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Uh… P-Pepper?” he asked, turning away and starting from the room.  He kept his voice low as she walked with him to the front door.  “Would you… call and… explain?  Just…”  He took a shaky breath in, blinking rapidly as he held back the emotion.  He waved a hand at the empty air in front of him, reaching for the doorknob.  “Just… tell them.  Something, and…”  He cleared his throat.  “I’ll… I’m going to catch a cab, and…”  And with that, Steve Rogers disappeared from the penthouse.

Pepper stared at the door until she heard the soft sounds of footsteps behind her.  She turned to see Tony, eyes frantic and lost, his whole body shaking as he whispered, “What just happened?”  His throat worked.  “Pepper, what did I just do?”

She swallowed, pulling up the number on her phone.  “Well… Tony, if I’m going to be perfectly honest… I think you just ruined your one chance to be happy.”  She took a shaky breath.  “ ** _Again_**.”

Tony shook his head.  “N… no.  No, if it was right, it… it would have happened… right?”  He swallowed.  “It would have worked out, and…”  He looked at Pepper.  “Right?”

Pepper held his gaze a long while.  She shook her head.  “No, Tony.  Things don’t just happen **_because_**.  You have to make things happen.  _Especially_ good things.”

Tony’s gaze drifted to the window.  “Maybe it wasn’t good enough—”

“Maybe you’re just so _damn_ afraid of being _happy_ , you’ll commit social suicide until there’s nothing left but me and Jarvis, and let me tell you something, Tony, I am not going to stand around while you…”  She pressed a hand to her mouth.  She waited a moment, swallowed the lump in her throat and tossed her hair back.  “I’ve got a call to make.  Several calls to make, so… maybe it would be best if you just… lie down. Rest or whatever it is you plan on doing now that you’re not getting married.”

Tony was staring at the wall.  Or rather _through_ the wall.  His whole body felt like it had fallen asleep, like white static all over his bones.  It was deeper than numb.  Numb was an absence of feeling.  This was a literal ache.  He sat in silence as Pepper stood, waiting for him to say something.  Anything.  Tell her not to cancel the plans, tell her to call Steve.

He said nothing.

Pepper swallowed.  “Right.  I’m going to, um… go make those calls, then.”

Pepper excused herself to the kitchen, picked up a napkin and went to dab under her eyes when she realized there was another note on this particular napkin.  She frowned at it, mouthed the words as she read: _Thank you for making me impossibly happy, Tony.  xx, Steve._

She sniffed hard, shaking her head and pressing a hand to her face.  “Goddammit, Tony,” she muttered, holding back the tears.  “You stupid, _stupid_ man.”  She picked up a blank napkin, dabbing under her eyes and then blowing her nose.  She waited one minute, then two, until she was convinced she could maintain her composure long enough to call and cancel all the plans.  The church, the catering, the band, the reception hall.  She went over the list twice in her head, pulled out her PDA and began making a list when…

Pepper followed the noise of movement to the front room.  She frowned, sniffing hard.  “Tony, what are you doing?”

Tony was struggling to zip-up his Captain America hoodie.  Once zipped, he began fumbling in the closet.  “He’s outside in this weather.  Not even a good coat.  No umbrella.  He’s going to catch pneumonia.”

Pepper blinked.  “Who?”

“My _husband_ ,” Tony said matter-of-factly.  “I’ve got to catch him before he…”  Tony sniffed as he pulled an umbrella from the closet.  Suddenly, he turned to Pepper, smiling brightly and giving a single, soggy laugh.  “Pep, I’m getting married.”

Pepper smirked.

“And he’s _so_ **_good_** , isn’t he?” Tony stammered, looking for a second umbrella.  “ _So_ good.  Better than I deserve.”  He gave another laugh.  “I’m getting married, Pepper.”

She nodded, returning her PDA to the holster on her hip.  “Shall I call and cancel this afternoon’s events—”

Tony shook his head, almost frantically.  “No!  No, no, just…”  He swallowed.  “Tell them we’re on our way, just…”  He gave up on the second umbrella and gave another high, nervous laugh.  “I’m getting married, I need to…”  And with that, he took off out the door, down the stairs.

Soon he was out on the street in the pouring rain.  He’d been right; it was a flood.  Or might as well have been.  Water was gathering like lakes in the gutters, and Tony could hardly see more than three feet in front of his face.  He found Steve out on the side of the road, struggling to wave down a cab.  Without so much as a warning, Tony ran towards him.  Steve spotted him out of the corner of his eye, had only enough time to steady himself before Tony ran headlong into him, hands grabbing Steve by his collar and pulling him down hard into a kiss.

Steve rocked backwards, hands finding Tony as the rain poured down all around them.  When Tony finally pulled free, they were both warm and breathing hard.  Tony gave a soft chuckle, shouted over the pounding rain, “I brought you an umbrella!”

“Really?!” Steve shouted back.  “Where is it?!”

Tony looked around, then started to laugh.  “I think I dropped it when I started running!”

They both began to laugh, cold rain pounding down on them as they clung to each other.  They laughed until their sides ached, until they could barely breathe, and when they were done laughing, they stood.  Just smiling at each other.  Steve pushed the now-sloppy mess of dark hair out of Tony’s eyes, kissed his forehead.  “Still want to marry me?” he asked.

“A little!” Tony said, just loud enough to be heard over the rain.

“You’re not going to run off and leave me at the alter?!” Steve teased.

Tony chuckled, shaking his head.  “Not on your life!”

Steve took Tony’s face in his hands.  “You’re ridiculous, Tony Stark!” he chuckled, then kissed his fiancée.  He spent a long moment, just holding him and smiling, finally saying, “now, let’s get to that church!”

***

Rhodey received both Pepper and Steve’s texts and was out at the front of the church with an umbrella to greet the very, very late couple.  Didn’t seem like they needed it, though, as they were both already soaking wet.  “What happened to you two?” the best man asked.

Tony’s eyes went wide and he looked at Steve.

The other man just shrugged, eyes never leaving Tony’s.  “Nothing, just… weather caught us by surprise.”

Rhodey looked between the two, knowing full well that wasn’t even close to the actual story.  He decided not to  press for details.  “Okay then.”  He nodded at couple.  “You ready?”

Steve looked at Tony who just kept smiling at him.  Tony nodded.  “I’m ready now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Several parts of dialogue for this fic were taken directly from Amy and Paul's scene in 'Company'. The title was taken from the song from the same play.
> 
> Marry Me A Little  
> -Stephen Sondheim
> 
> Marry me a little,  
> Love me just enough.  
> Cry, but not too often,  
> Play, but not too rough.  
> Keep a tender distance  
> so we'll both be free.  
> That's the way it ought to be. 
> 
> I'm ready!  
> Marry me a little,  
> Do it with a will.  
> Make a few demands  
> I'm able to fulfill.  
> Want me more than others,  
> Not exclusively.  
> That's the way it ought to be. 
> 
> I'm ready!  
> I'm ready now! 
> 
> You can be my best friend,  
> I can be your right arm.  
> We'll go through a fight or two--  
> No harm, no harm.  
> We'll look not too deep,  
> We'll go not too far.  
> We won't have to give up a thing,  
> We'll stay who we are. 
> 
> Right?  
> Okay, then.  
> I'm ready!  
> I'm ready now! 
> 
> Someone--  
> Marry me a little,  
> Love me just enough.  
> Warm and sweet and easy,  
> Just the simple stuff.  
> Keep a tender distance  
> So we'll both be free.  
> That's the way it ought to be.  
> I'm ready! 
> 
> Marry me a little,  
> Body, heart, and soul.  
> Passionate as hell  
> But always in control.  
> Want me first and foremost,  
> Keep me company.  
> That's the way it ought to be.  
> I'm ready!  
> I'm ready now! 
> 
> Oh, how gently we'll talk,  
> Oh, how softly we'll tread.  
> All the stings,  
> The ugly things  
> We'll keep unsaid.  
> We'll build a cocoon  
> Of love and respect.  
> You promise whatever you like,  
> I'll never collect.  
> Right?  
> Okay, then.  
> I'm ready.  
> I'm ready now.  
> Someone-- 
> 
> I'm ready!


End file.
